


Pitiful

by Asher_Ephraim



Series: Pitiful [2]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Casual Sex, Consensual Non-Consent, Gangbang, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Open Relationships, Past Child Abuse, Poor Dopheld Mitaka, Poor Life Choices, Promiscuity, Roleplay, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Self-Esteem Issues, Teacher/Student Roleplay, Threesome - M/M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-17 17:52:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13082145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asher_Ephraim/pseuds/Asher_Ephraim
Summary: Dopheld Mitaka, now a lieutenant, continues to try to distract himself with promiscuity. Unfortunately his off-duty activities only feed into his self-loathing. When Hux discovers Mitaka's hobbies, he finds he can't remain on the sidelines.*Title change from "Pity" to fit other titles in the series.





	1. Discovery

Armitage Hux rarely spends time in the senior officers’ lounge, but its starport has a breathtaking view and he does enjoy having a brandy and series of cigarras while staring out of it. Unfortunately, being here usually means he has to listen to the inane half-drunken drivel of his men. Case in point: two officers, insignia marking them as commanders, are talking over ale in the corner booth nearest him. They’re at least halfway toward inebriation.  
         “You never told me how last night went.”  
         “Bloody fantastic,” the answer comes with a happy groan.  
         The inquirer laughs boisterously. “So you enjoyed that pretty thing you disappeared with? The lieutenant. What’s his name again?”  
         “Mitaka.”  
         Hux blinks at the stars and immediately turns his head slightly to better overhear. _Mitaka’s gay?_  
         “That’s the one. He certainly seemed eager enough.”  
         “Gods, yes. He’s feisty as hell. I mean…” This commander lowers his voice, but luckily the general has acute hearing. “I’ve never seen anyone so happy to suck a dick. Other than in porn, that is.”  
          _Mitaka’s gay. Or at least bisexual, and not ashamed of it, either._ For some reason he has to tell himself this again. It still doesn’t sound believable. But he hadn’t misheard the name, and he knows there are no other Mitakas on board, let alone lieutenants. And he shouldn’t be surprised—after all, between five and ten percent of human males are predominantly homosexual, and with so many people under his immediate command, a decent portion is bound to be gay. But since his elevation to the rank of general, he hasn’t permitted himself to ruminate on the personal lives of his subordinates. With his career the most important aspect of his life, he isn’t willing to risk causing problems at work and thereby jeopardise the furthering of the Order’s objectives simply to indulge in fleeting pleasure. This revelation, however, has something stirring in the pit of his stomach. Because Dopheld Mitaka is most definitely his type—in regards to both his body and personality. Had they been at Arkanis together, he imagines things would have transpired between them.  
         “Did you fuck him, too?”  
         The man sighs a bit sadly. “Well, he asked me to. But I was already so close… I couldn’t stop fucking that mouth of his. It was amazing. He didn’t even gag.”  
         “Did he swallow?” the interlocutor asks with a leer.  
         An affirmative nod. “Every drop, right down his throat.”  
         Hux’s stomach flips. _Mitaka’s gay_ , he repeats in his head once again for good measure. _Not only that,_ he adds. It would seem the lieutenant gives fantastic blowjobs. Which in itself is less than fantastic. Because now Hux is going to have difficulty not thinking about that topic when he needs to remain professional. Morosely he stares down into his drink and misses the days before everyone was under his authority. Back when he could fraternise without it immediately risking an abuse of station complaint.  
         He knocks the rest of the brandy back, stubs his cigarra out in the nearest ashtray, and exits the lounge.

 

Back in his quarters, Hux brings up security footage from the bridge a few cycles previous. Mitaka is at his console, a look of calm concentration on his face. Zooming in on the lieutenant, Hux watches him carefully. In the background, someone cracks a joke and Mitaka gives a small smirk. Hux freezes the frame there and expands the picture to fill the screen. Holding the tablet in one hand, he slides the other below the waistband of his pyjamas.  
          _(Never seen anyone so happy to suck a dick.)_  
         Already mostly hard, Hux focuses his attention on Mitaka’s sarcastic, half-smiling lips as he strokes himself slowly. Imagining he’s getting ready for the brunet to open up and taste him. Shit—when was the last time he received head? Half a standard year ago, with some industry representative after a long night of drinks. It hadn’t been anything spectacular; he barely remembers it.  
        _(Couldn’t stop fucking that mouth of his.)_  
         He wonders how Mitaka’s encounter with the nameless commander had started. Had there been flirting? Were innuendos dropped? Did Dopheld Mitaka blush throughout the interaction, or was he surprisingly confident in these matters? Did the lieutenant talk dirty before he put the man’s cock in his mouth? And perhaps Hux is reading too much into the commander’s comments, but the phrasing he’d used to describe what he’d done indicates a level of subservience on Mitaka’s part.  
      _(Feisty as hell.)_  
_(Didn’t even gag.)_  
         So the lieutenant was enthusiastic about the dick down his throat. Does he like a hand on his head, guiding his movements? Maybe a fist in his hair? “Fuck,” Hux murmurs, thumbing his slit, smearing precome over the head. “You pretty boy. I never knew.”  
         He simply hadn’t let himself imagine.  
         What he’d give to watch that mouth wrapped around a dick—and not necessarily his own. Because Hux has a deep voyeuristic streak, likely a product of an overabundance of time spent with pornography at a formative age. Oh, to see the lieutenant perform with him as the sole audience member. Perhaps he’d be open to a threesome. Spitroast: one cock between his lips, another thrusting between the cheeks of his arse.  
        _What do you look like with your clothes off, Mitaka? Slim? Toned? Are you cut or uncut?_  
         When he comes, he can’t keep some of it from landing on the screen. A droplet appears to hang from Mitaka’s lower lip.  
        _That’s a very good look for you, Lieutenant._  
         Guiltily, he cleans the screen, stretches, and turns in for the night. He isn’t looking forward to seeing Lieutenant Mitaka in the morning, knowing what he does now.


	2. Native Tongue

“May I buy you a drink?” a voice asks.  
         Dopheld turns on his stool at the bar and is pleased with what he sees. A man in his early thirties, slender, taller than Mitaka. Curly blond hair, light brown eyes, and the uniform of an engineer. “Of course.” He holds his hand out. “Lieutenant Mitaka.”  
         “Staff Engineer Shanis. Pleasure.”  
         Grinning, Dopheld answers, “The pleasure’s mine.”  
         “I don’t come here often,” Shanis admits with a shy smile. “I’m not much for crowds.”  
         “Nor am I. I’m only here for where it can get me.”  
         With a tilt of his head, Shanis asks, “And where’s that?”  
         Putting his cards on the table, Dopheld ventures, “Alone with someone handsome.” With this pronouncement, he slams back the remainder of his whiskey and sneaks a smile at the engineer.  
         Shanis chuckles and signals to the barkeeping droid. “Two whiskeys, please.”  
         The instant they finish these fresh glasses and Shanis settles his tab, they head out together. This is one clear benefit of spending time with higher-ranking men: single quarters that are larger than closets. Not that Dopheld wastes much time looking around—the moment the door slides shut behind them, the engineer has grabbed him by the belt and pulled him close. Mitaka slides his flat palms over the front of Shanis’ tunic and leans in on tiptoes to kiss him. It’s wet and desperate. In these moments, Dopheld doesn’t mind being seen as he is: hungry for physical intimacy.  
         “What should I call you?” the lieutenant asks during a break in the kissing.  
         “My given name’s Tobin. What’s yours?”  
         “Dopheld.”  
         “By any chance…” the man drifts off as a distant look appears in his eyes. “Nah, never mind.”  
         “What?”  
         “Your name. It’s similar to one—”  
         “Daofaldhán is how it’s pronounced at home.”  
         Tobin grins widely, thrilled at the discovery. “It’s Gailge.”  
         “Yes.”  
          _“Do you speak Gailge, then?”_ Tobin asks in Dopheld’s native tongue, eyes and voice hopeful.  
          _“I do.”_ This language has no words for ‘yes’ or ‘no’, so one has to respond by either affirming or negating the verb in the question asked.  
        _“Could we perhaps continue speaking it? I haven’t anyone to talk with like this, not since my parents died.”_  
          _“May God keep their souls in peace,”_  Mitaka answers naturally. Even though he no longer believes, it’s the polite response to give on learning of someone’s death. _“And of course.”_ He hasn’t been with anyone who spoke his native language since he entered Arkanis.  
         Tobin leans in to kiss him on the cheek.  
         Still speaking in Gailge, Mitaka encourages him, “You can do more than that if you’d like.”  
         “Oh, I would like.” Whispering into Dopheld’s ear, he asks, “Do you want to swap oral, or—”  
         “I want you to fuck me.”  
         Tobin chuckles. “I can do that, I’m sure. Let’s get your clothes off.” Once Mitaka is standing naked in his bedroom, the engineer sighs. “You’re so pretty, Daofaldhán.”  
         “Thank you.” In Gailge, ‘pretty’ is easily applied to people of any gender—it’s not at all feminising or belittling.  
         “How do you like it?”  
         Blinking, Dopheld stammers, “I—well—that is, however you’d like it. I’m… flexible.” Men don’t ask him what he likes. They tell him what they want and hope he’s up for it. They dictate terms, and he either accepts or declines.  
         Tobin raises an eyebrow. “That so?”  
         “I mean metaphorically, although I’m also quite…” He gives up. “Oh, fuck it, Tobin, just tell me what you want.”  
         “I’d like to see you face-down on the bed with your arse spread for me.”  
         He obliges with a smile, laying on his stomach awaiting the fuck he feels is days overdue. Tobin joins him on the mattress, places a thumb against Dopheld’s hole, and leans in to get a closer look. He hums quietly, introspectively. “I may have to eat you.”  
         “What? Indeed?”  
         “Indeed.” Tobin says nothing further as he directs Dopheld to fold his knees under his stomach and sets his mouth on him. Mitaka gasps at the wet heat that never fails to drive him mad. He can’t remember the last time someone did this to him. For him, rather. In his own experience, it’s criminally uncommon.  
         “Oh God, oh God, Tobin,” he whines, bunching the edge of the bed-sheet in his fists. “So good.” And that’s before Tobin’s tongue squirms its way just inside. “Fuck me soon, please.”  
         The man laughs against him, his breath tickling sensitive skin. After a few more minutes of tongue-work, Tobin pulls back and reaches for something out of Dopheld’s reach—lubricant, from the slick sound of it on Tobin’s hand. “Ah, but you’re terribly gorgeous,” the engineer murmurs as he eases in and gradually lowers himself until he’s draped across Mitaka’s back. As Tobin finds his rhythm, he kisses the back of Dopheld’s neck and reaches his arms out to take hold of both his hands. “You feel like Heaven, Daofaldhán,” he murmurs. “I swear to God, no one has ever felt so sweet.”  
         It’s not the dirty talk he’s used to. In response, all he can say is a whispered, “Tobin.”  
         “You’re beautiful. Fuck, you’re going to make me come so hard.” He pauses. “How is it for you, love?”  
         “Good. It’s very good.” It’s all a bit overwhelming, in fact.  
         Tobin sits back with his legs folded under him, pulling Dopheld up with him. One arm crossed over Mitaka’s chest, he slides his free hand towards the lieutenant’s cock. “I want you to come with me. I hope I make you feel half as good as you make me.”  
         He’s breathless, astonished at Tobin’s kindness. “You do, you feel fantastic. Just don’t stop any of this until we’re done.”  
         “Where may I come?” he inquires, kissing Dopheld’s neck lightly. “In you?”  
         “Come in me, Tobin.”  
         Tobin sighs happily. “I will. And soon. Come for me, beautiful. I want to taste you on my hand.”  
         Dopheld’s cock jerks wildly in Tobin’s grip as he begins to spurt. “Fuck. Tobin. Fuck, fuck,” he groans. Once he’s finished twitching, Tobin’s hand leaves him and he can hear the man suck on his fingers.  
         “You’re delicious, Faldhá. Everything about you is so fucking hot.” He must be done cleaning his hand, because it returns to caress Dopheld’s neck. “Just a little longer, love. So close to filling your sweet arse with my cream.”  
         Dopheld moans. He’d forgotten the Gailge slang for ejaculate, and hearing it sends his head spinning. “Oh. Please do.”  
         Tobin stays inside through his climax, continuing to thrust irregularly as his dick throbs. “Oh, God, I’m still coming. Fucking hell. Oh. Oh, Faldhá.”

 

After he returns to his room, Dopheld doesn’t head straight to the fresher in his usual manner. Instead he stands in socks alone, slowly drinking a glass of cold water and scrolling through his news feed.  
          _No one has ever felt so sweet._  
         His stomach squeezes at the remembered compliment. It was almost romantic.  
         Eventually he does step in the sonic and switches it on. When he steps out, he doesn’t pause to stand in front of the mirror to insult himself on his way to bed. He just goes to sleep with an unaccustomed and inane smile on his face.


	3. Standing In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux makes do with what he's offered.

Now that he’s certain no one is watching, Hux permits himself a lingering gaze in Mitaka’s direction. Even with the look of studious concentration on his face, the lieutenant appears devastatingly young. Energetic. Eager.  
         Feisty, even.  
          _Shit,_ he swears under his breath as he turns back to the port. Under his gloves, he can feel his palms itch with the prickling start of perspiration, knows a flush is already working its way across his collarbone. Wrestling with the image of Mitaka’s sweet lips wrapped around a thick cock, Hux attempts to keep his breaths steady.  
         It isn’t fair. Someone so innocent-looking shouldn’t give remarkable head. Hux tries not to reflect on the fact that for years he’s been hoping for someone intelligent and slutty in equal measure. On his way to his quarters, he allows himself one last glance at the lieutenant and groans inwardly as Mitaka snaps to attention and salutes.

 

Sitting at his desk after dinner, Hux unlocks his tablet and considers his next step. His finger hovers over the Service Records icon for a brief moment before he sighs and taps the screen to sign in via fingerprint. Taking a slow sip from his wine glass, he makes his way through Dopheld Mitaka’s detailed personnel file. He skims through the pages regaling a decade of academic achievement—he knows Mitaka is brilliant. What he needs to know is what the man wants. What drives him.  
         Large family, one of eleven children, limited resources. That explains the need to excel simply to survive.  
         And then it catches his eye and his mouth goes instantly dry: a comportment complaint from his first semester at Arkanis. Dopheld Mitaka was only recently seventeen when an staff member walked in on him “orally gratifying” a fourth-year student. The dalliance had occurred in a study room of the campus library. And it was only the first of many similar incidents.  
         In Dopheld’s second year, a rumour circulated regarding the alleged existence of a video documenting him once again bestowing oral favours—but in this case, on eight to twelve other cadets in a row.  
         At that thought, Hux has to stand up from his chair, empty his glass down his throat, and ease out of his trousers.  
         It seems that during his years at Arkanis, Dopheld Mitaka had engaged in sexual encounters with at least twelve other cadets (all male)—and that’s discounting the purported video. Hux reminds himself that he needs to breathe before he continues.  
         Then he opens the attached photographs. The first is of Dopheld immediately after the library encounter. And Hux considers Mitaka young-looking now. But here… The boy appears the perfect combination of sweetness and filth. His hair is tousled, pupils wide, lips plump from recent use. Hux may be imagining it, but he thinks he can see a glint of spittle on Dopheld’s chin. Lowering one hand beneath his briefs, he wonders how big the older student’s dick had been. Enough to counterbalance the note in Dopheld’s file, hopefully.  
         The entries from Arkanis conclude with a subdued concern about Mitaka’s self-restraint in sexual matters, but the authors are careful to note that the new graduate had always shown deference to authority, honesty regarding his activities, and had learned a great deal about discretion in the proceeding few years. The psychological analysis concludes that his earlier unfettered promiscuity had likely been the understandable result of a young man from a restrictive background coming to terms with his first taste of personal freedom.  
         Flipping back to the image of Dopheld at seventeen, face still flushed from giving semi-public fellatio, Hux sighs. He suspects he’s doomed to suffer in this manner for some time yet.

 

As the interdepartmental meeting lets out, Kylo Ren follows General Hux a bit too closely. In fact, the knight nearly collides with Hux when the general halts entirely to allow Mitaka to exit the room first. Immediately after the lieutenant leaves, Ren clears his throat dramatically. When Hux turns to face him, he removes his helmet and purses his lips in thought. “That’s interesting,” he declares, sounding overly casual.  
         “What is?” Hux asks, voice carefully modulated to indicate that he has little to no interest in whatever subject Ren wishes to discuss.  
         “Your interest in Lieutenant Mitaka.” When Hux tries to scoff, Ren cuts him off. “Please. You’re not fooling me. I can almost taste how much you want him.” He watches the general’s shoulders slump minutely in resignation. “When did this start?”  
         Hux glances around the room as though to verify they’re still alone before lowering his head and bringing a hand wearily to his brow. “About a month ago.”  
         “He’s been here over a year now, hasn’t he?” When Hux nods, Ren continues with, “What happened to make you take notice?”  
         In a voice appropriately low for the topic at hand, Hux confides, “I may have overheard some rather salacious gossip. It seems my lieutenant is something of an accomplished cocksucker.”  
         Raising an eyebrow, Kylo comments, “He _is_ cute. Anecdotally, I’ve found it’s the sweet-seeming ones that are willing to do the filthiest things. I could take a peek into his mind, if you’d like. See what exactly he’s into, let you know if he has similar thoughts about you…”  
         Hux coughs into a fist. “Don’t bother. I’m not going to do anything about it.”  
         “Other than develop a silent obsession, you mean.”  
         “I’m not obsess—”  
         Again the knight interrupts. “How many times have you scoured his personnel file? Stared longingly at security footage of him on duty?”  
         In response, Hux simply frowns and folds his arms across his chest. “I only want to know if I might have a chance with him.”  
         “You know the standard way to find out is to ask?”  
         “Thanks for the advice,” Hux says with a sniff before turning to leave.  
         “By the way, if he isn’t interested, I may be.”  
         Hux freezes in astonishment. “What did you say?”  
         “You’re not the only one on board who’s frustrated,” Ren says pointedly.  
         “You’d like to…” Hux doesn’t finish the question. He can’t; he has no idea how to confront this revelation.  
         The knight resolutely refuses to look at his interlocutor, but Hux can tell he’s blushing by the colour of his ears. “Blow you. Yes.”  
         “I didn’t know you were—”  
         “I am. Well, half and half.”  
         “You don’t _like_ me,” the general reminds him unnecessarily.  
         With the offhanded shrug of a teenager, Ren mumbles, “Doesn’t mean I’m not attracted to you. And no one else on this ship is willing to talk to me.”  
         Hux is about to mention that this might have something to do with Ren’s behaviour and attitude on-board, but oddly enough he doesn’t want to argue. He’d rather see where this unexpected turn could take them. After all, it’s been such a long time since he had someone on his knees servicing him. “Fine. When?”  
         “I’ve got nothing planned for tonight.”  
         “Come to my quarters at 2100.”

 

When Hux opens the door, Ren is standing in the hallway, face bare and looking sheepish.  
         “I brought wine,” the knight says brightly, bringing a bottle from behind his back. Hux accepts it without comment and shows him in. Kylo notices the projection screen on the living room wall, just opposite the couch. He stares at it uselessly.  
         “Have a seat,” Hux offers as he pries the cork from the bottle and pours wine into two glasses. The general sits as close beside Ren as he can without touching him yet. Gesturing to the wall, he explains, “I thought we could watch some porn.”  
         The knight smirks. “To set the mood? Works for me.”  
         Hux selects one of the more conventional vids on his playlist. Two men, both young and fit, enjoying each other. All quite standard, really. He hits Play and leans back against the cushion behind him.  
         “I hope this is bare,” Kylo comments.  
         “Of course it is,” Hux says with an offended frown. “It’s pornography, not a health video.” He skips ahead in the scene, bypassing the kissing and stripping and resuming at the beginning of oral. He unclasps his collar. Ren removes his outer robe, pulling it over his head and dropping it in a messy heap off the arm of the couch.  
         Hux is on the verge of complaining when he’s distracted by Kylo’s bare chest. “Oh,” he murmurs. “I see your training _does_ involve a physical element.”  
         Ren snickers at the roundabout compliment, then palms the bulge in his leggings. “How about you? Are you planning on keeping your uniform on for this?”  
         The general flashes him a look approaching a glare, but takes the message and unbuckles his belt, then removes his tunic. He stops there, choosing to remain in his undershirt, jodhpurs, and suspenders. He keeps his gaze on the screen but watches Ren’s hand out of the corner of his vision. From what he can tell, it seems the knight is rather well-endowed.  
         On screen, the recipient of the oral attention grabs the back of the other’s head and holds him down. He lets out a low growl of satisfaction before purring, “Good boy. Gonna let me fuck your hole?” The bottom nods energetically as saliva trickles down his chin.  
         Ren sighs and reaches his hand under his waistband.  
         “Take it out,” Hux orders. “Show me.”  
         The knight swallows hard and nods. He eases his leggings down past his knees and his cock springs out, long and hard.  
         “Oh,” Hux says, more a puff of air than a word. “Kriffing hells.” He undoes his own flies and works his trousers and briefs to the floor.  
         Kylo turns his head and licks his lips. “Pfassk,” he hisses, also pleased by the view. “Red hair everywhere, huh?”  
         Oddly, Hux looks down as if to verify this, then slowly strokes himself. He’s not as long as Kylo, but at least he’s thick. From his own experience, he knows that when bottoming, girth is more of an obstacle than length. A part of him wants to see how well Ren could take him. But not tonight; he has other plans. “Get on your knees in front of me.”  
         Again, the knight wordlessly follows his orders, and Hux is thrilled by this response. He was expecting arguments or at least backtalk. Once Ren is in position, Hux smiles down at him coldly.  
         “You offered me a blow job,” he reminds the man. “Go on.”  
         As Ren finds a shaky rhythm, Hux decides the scene he’s watching isn’t rough enough to hold his interest. He picks up the remote and changes the vid to another one. If the knight takes issue with the new selection, that will be his problem. This video is of a slender, sweet-faced young man in a booth at a club. Hux starts it mid-way, where the boy is taking a cock up his round little arse through a hole in the wall. The general enjoys this particular one for many reasons, among them the fact that the viewer can clearly hear the series of anonymous tops as they take their pleasure. Another bonus is the way their ejaculate slowly drips down the slut’s thighs. And the look of bliss on his face doesn’t hurt, either.  
         Kylo takes a break to turn and watch the screen for a bit as he catches his breath. “Ever been to one of those?” he asks the general.  
         The redhead nods. “Twice. First time I emptied down someone’s throat.” He’d just graduated from Arkanis and gone on a bit of a spree. Around two or three in the morning, he’d found himself in the back rooms of a club with awful music and private booths. And when someone on the other side of the wall waggled a few fingers through the hole in invitation, he’d been just the right level of drunk to grin and drop his trousers.  
         “And the second time?”  
         “He backed up on my bare dick and rode it until I bred him.”  
         Kylo flushes and moans. “Shit.” He continues to watch until the current top groans, “Fuck, I’m coming, baby,” and jerks himself quickly at the sight of ejaculate leaking from the boy’s newly vacated ass. Then he returns to Hux, eyes dark, wet lips parted. “If you want to fuck my face, go ahead.”  
         Hux sighs happily and sinks his fingers into Ren’s hair. “Yes,” he whispers. “I  _would_ like to skull-fuck you.” He proceeds to take control, using Ren’s mouth and throat like an anonymous wet hole—which it might as well be. “Keep stroking yourself,” he murmurs. “I want you to come while I abuse your mouth.” At this declaration Ren moans breathlessly around him, the vibration sending shocks of pleasure up Hux’s spine. “It’s been so long since I’ve had a willing slut like this,” he mentions. “You had better swallow it all.”  
         Ren nods as best he can, a thin whine escaping his lips as he punishes his own swollen cock with his fist.  
         “If you spill on the floor, though, you’ll be licking it up.” At that threat, Kylo’s back shudders and Hux knows the man is coming. He feels some of it splatter onto his shins, and that shoves him right over the edge. “There. Be a good boy for me now.” Kylo gulps his seed down hungrily. When Hux is finished, he releases the knight from his grip and glances down. Pointing with the toe of one boot to a splotch on the floor, he smirks as Ren obediently ducks his head down to wipe it up with his tongue. “You’re much better at following directions than I imagined,” he comments, satisfied and drained.


	4. (Again and Again)

Today Mitaka spent most of his ten-hour shift standing at Hux’s shoulder and sitting beside him in meetings. As much as he loves working for and with the general, too much time spent in such close proximity with the man puts him on edge. Because now all he can think about is his mental list of all the things he’d happily allow Hux do to him in private. Or even semi-private. Strike that, at this point he’s so head over heels in lust with the man he’d blow him on the bridge in the middle of a shift. Reputation be damned.  
         But Hux would never stoop to that sort of thing, especially not with him. Mitaka is sure his commanding officer hasn’t wasted a second thought on him, much less considered him in a sexual light.  
         Once he finishes dinner, Dopheld sends Commander Vanalda a message on his comm, flagging it as personal.  
_**DM:** Are you free tonight, sir?_  
_**SV:** I am._  
_**DM:** If you’re interested, I’m in the mood for something rough._  
_**SV:** Good. Can you be here in 45 minutes?_  
_**DM:** Can and will, sir._  
         In the meantime, Dopheld enjoys a lazy smoke before stepping into the sonic. Inside the unit he cleans himself out and trims his pubic hair. Once that’s accomplished, he steps out to brush his teeth and gel his hair. Forty three minutes after Vanalda’s invitation, he’s standing at the commander’s door and pressing the buzzer. The door slides open and he enters.  
         “Come into the bedroom,” a sharp voice orders, presumably from said room.  
         “Yes, sir,” Dopheld answers clearly.  
         “I want you naked by the time you get here.”  
         He doesn’t respond to the command verbally, choosing instead to busy himself with removing his clothes and placing them in a folded stack on the couch. When he walks into the bedroom, Vanalda is reclining on the mattress and watching a vid projected onto the wall. He doesn’t even turn his head to address the lieutenant; all Dopheld can see are his pyjamas and salt-and-pepper hair. “There’s a plug on the table. Lube it up and pop it in, then get up here and put my dick in your mouth while I finish watching this.”  
         Dopheld had assumed the commander was watching porn, but on closer inspection—while the lieutenant is slicking up the toy and inserting it—the vid turns out to be the end of a documentary on Imperial era shipyards. He climbs onto the bed and pulls Vanalda’s pants down to get to work. Even though he can’t see the images, Mitaka can tell by the narration that it’s especially dry. But despite that, Vanalda doesn’t seems too interested in what he’s doing with his lips or tongue, even when Dopheld tries to coax the commander’s approval or at least attention by repeatedly taking him into his throat. At least Vanalda is fully hard, but he says nothing, keeps his hands to himself, and his breathing remains steady.  
         When the video ends an interminable half hour later, Vanalda glances down to survey him coolly. “On your knees, facing the wall.” Wordlessly Mitaka gets into position and waits. Hearing the clink of metal behind him, he turns his head to glimpse a pair of handcuffs. “Hands behind your back.” He slaps the cuffs around Dopheld’s wrists. “Call me Daddy. If you want anything from me tonight, beg for it.”  
         He can tell by their weight that these aren’t the type of cuffs he could escape himself. And he knows this is the sort of situation for which safe words were invented, but he only uses them if a partner insists on it. “Yes, Daddy,” he agrees. The whole Daddy/son dynamic doesn’t do much for him per se, but he does enjoy the fact that it gets Vanalda so worked up. If nothing else, he’s here to please one more figure of authority.  
         “You said you wanted it rough,” Vanalda remarks as he grips the base of the plug and pulls it out too quickly. Dopheld can’t hold back the whine of protest from his throat. “I know you hate being empty when you’re turned on. But don’t worry. Daddy’s going to fuck his little boy’s hole real soon.”  
         “Thanks, Daddy.” He listens to the squirt and squelch of lubricant and waits. Then the commander’s fingers make a brief tour of his pucker and the space immediately within, just before he takes hold of the cuffs and slams himself in. “Pfassk!” Dopheld shouts.  
         “Oh, come _on_. You asked for rough.”  
         “I forgot how thick you were,” Mitaka offers as explanation. “It’s been too long.”  
         “It has,” Vanalda agrees. “Daddy really ought to breed his bitch-boy at least once a week. To keep you from forgetting your place.”  
         “Which is on my knees with a fat cock up my arse?” Dopheld asks in a teasing voice now that the sharp sting is subsiding.  
         “Pretty much. So, you wanna see just how hard I can go?”  
         “Yes, please!”  
         It turns out Vanalda can be quite rough indeed, which is perfect for tonight. Mitaka spends most of the fuck trying to pretend it’s Hux, imagining the general behind him, one hand in his hair and the other on the cuffs. It would be easier if Vanalda were quieter, but he can’t fault the commander for voicing his pleasure. “Take it like the little whore you are.”  
         “Yes, Daddy. I’m your little whore.” A bitter part of him rather wishes his father were alerted every time he calls another man ‘Daddy.’ Just to underscore precisely what Dopheld thinks of Mr Mitaka’s guidance on morality and propriety.  
         “Yeah, that’s right. My dirty boy. You asked for rough, I’ll show you rough. Pound your hole, fill you up, and kick you out. I want you to be sore tomorrow, so that you think of me every time you sit that cheap ass down.”  
         Gasping already, Mitaka begs, “Come in me, Daddy. I need you to breed me.” He says it because he knows how much the commander likes it, and he’s immediately rewarded with a happy groan.  
         “Maker, you’re like a bitch in heat. Come on, back your ass up on me. Show me how bad you want this. Yes, there’s a good boy.”  
         Dopheld breathes, “Thank you,” and desperately wants to add, “General” or even more scandalously, “Hux,” but he manages to say “Daddy” instead. The whole reason he came here tonight was to imagine being used by his CO, and he’s not sure why he thought this man was the best substitute. Other than the fact that Vanalda is the highest ranking man among his regulars, and the one mostly likely to treat him like a hooker. Although he doubts the general would ever hire a prostitute, he likes to imagine being the lucky rent-boy paid to service him.  
         “I’m close, baby boy.”  
         He can’t picture Armitage Hux saying anything of the sort. Not that he has any clue how the general would sound during sex, but he thinks it must be different than this. And even in his fantasies, Hux doesn’t say his given name—the closest he comes is “Lieutenant” or every once in a while, “Mitaka.” Even that feels transgressively intimate.   
         “Get yourself off in a moment if you want. I’m nearly done with you.” Dopheld resolves not to touch himself until he's alone. Vanalda yanks down on the chain between the cuffs, pulling Mitaka upright against him as he shouts wordlessly. For the commander’s benefit alone he repeats, “Breed me, Daddy. Please, Daddy, please.” He’s trying to make Vanalda come as soon as possible, as he no longer has a reason to drag this out, now that he’s had to discard the whole imagine-it’s-Hux pretense. “Fuckin’ whore,” the commander grunts in conclusion as he wipes the sweat from his brow and recovers his breath.  
         After the cuffs come off, Dopheld stretches his arms over his head, popping his shoulders back into alignment. Vanalda hands him a damp washcloth and he dabs at himself perfunctorily before returning to the living room to clothe himself. The last he sees of the commander is the older man stretching his arms across the pillows and smiling contentedly.  
         Back in his own room, Dopheld kicks his trousers and briefs off and lies on his bed with two fingers up himself as he desperately jerks his insistent erection. He pretends the ejaculate he’s using as lube came from Hux, that the general is still in the room, sitting back and enjoying the depraved show. Shirtless in his jodhpurs, maybe smoking a cigarra. Yes, that’s nice—Mitaka adds the cigarra to the picture. It underlines the man’s amused detachment quite nicely.  
         “Fuck, sir. General.”  
          _—How does that feel, you filthy thing? Fingering yourself with my come?_  
         “Oh, stars, General. It feels so good inside me.”  
          _—Excellent. It sounds positively disgusting._  
         “May I come, sir?” he whispers to the empty room.  
      _—I suppose you may, Lieutenant._  
         “Thank you, sir.” He moans dramatically, wantonly, as his toes curl and his release lands across his stomach and chest. Once his breathing returns to baseline, he hits the sonic again and wonders how long this stupid obsession is going to last.

 

Midway through the main course of a dull dinner feting a trade delegation from the Salient System, Hux notices the lieutenant beside him is giving him an inquiring look. It appears as though the young officer has just asked him a question and is waiting for a response.  
         “Do you need something, Mitaka?” Hux asks in a low, hopefully sultry, voice. It probably comes out brusquely instead.  
         Worrying his lower lip between his teeth nervously, the lieutenant repeats, “The salt, please, sir.”  
         Hux smiles a little too long for the topic at hand and passes the shaker along with the pepper. These two basic spices are a matched pair and always travel together. That was one of the first lessons of decent society that Armitage Hux had been struck for not knowing. _(Your mother was one of the kitchen help; how were you never informed of this?)_  
         “Thank you, sir.”  
         “Anything for you, Lieutenant,” Hux assures, reminding himself not to allow his fingers to linger against his adjutant’s.  
         An odd look crosses Mitaka’s face before vanishing as the lieutenant turns back to observing the main conversation.  
          _What the hell am I doing?_ Hux wonders. _Mitaka is obviously too professional for this. He just thinks I’m being polite. If anything, he’s probably concerned that I’m going to get drunk and make a spectacle of myself._  
         But of course that isn’t it. If he’s feeling and acting a bit intoxicated, it’s just because of… well, Mitaka’s proximity, to speak frankly. Hux surveys the individuals around the busy table and wonders if there’s anyone here that his lieutenant would be interested in. What sort of traits does he look for in a man? Thinking back to the commander in the lounge—the one whose revelation had launched this fantasy—Hux begins to review his characteristics. Average height, average build, pleasant face, not overly bright or exceptional in any obvious way. Why had Mitaka chosen him for a short-term partner? What is the general missing from this equation?  
         Although Armitage Hux doesn’t place himself too highly on the spectrum of physical attractiveness, he admits he’s tall and he does wear a uniform well. Besides that, there’s the unaccountable draw of his red hair, unmistakable position of power, and remarkable intelligence. He’s never had difficulty finding men with whom to amuse himself in off-duty hours. These days he gets people into bed with his rank, and keeps them there with his skills. As such, he’s comfortably sure he could please Mitaka. Perhaps it’s simply the man’s role as his adjutant that precludes him from considering Hux as a partner. The young officer is certainly the epitome of professionalism.  
         Once the dinner wraps up, Hux excuses himself from the postprandial lounging about and finds himself standing outside the banquet hall with his Mitaka.  
         “Do you require anything else of me tonight, sir?”  
         Hux’s brow wrinkles and his stomach sinks as he says, “No, Lieutenant. Thank you.” He watches Mitaka salute him crisply and walk away, thinking on reflection that he’d told the truth yet still feeling as though he’d wimped out. Require? No. But desire, on the other hand… Fully aware that he’s staring at the lieutenant’s rear, he can’t be bothered to tear his eyes away. It isn’t as though anyone is present to notice.  
          _—That didn’t go as well as you’d hoped. Nice ass on him, though._  
         Spinning on his heels, Hux glares at the dark figure of Lord Ren, who has materialised from nowhere to stand a ways down the corridor. _Don’t taunt me unless you’re prepared to assist, Ren._  
         He can almost hear the smirk in Ren’s silent response. _I’ll come to your quarters in half an hour._

 

Back in his quarters, Dopheld takes a quick turn in the sonic and peers at himself in the mirror as he puts his hair in order.  
          _(Anything for you, Lieutenant.)_  
         What precisely had the general meant by that? Surely he was just being appreciative. He’s always been decent to Mitaka, and if tonight was any different, it must have been the wine talking. The lieutenant knows his superior well enough to know that he prefers men sexually, but he’s never seen Hux dally with anyone under his command.  
         Besides, Mitaka is simply too far below the standards of someone like Armitage Hux. The general is everything Dopheld wishes he himself were—composed, confident, consummately professional. Not to mention the self-restraint: Hux can keep his trousers on. Whereas Mitaka is now so worked up, he knows he’s going to go back out this evening. If he’s lucky, he can find someone of much superior rank to order him around a bit.  
         Not Vanalda this time, though. He wants a classier sort tonight, and since no one specific comes to mind, he heads out in search of someone new. On his way to the closest commissioned officers’ lounge, he shuffles through the replies he could have given to Hux’s polite offer of “anything.”  
      _(No, sir, anything for_ you _.)_  
_(If that’s the case, General, please permit me to blow you.)_  
_(Then fuck me, sir?)_  
         He shakes his head; it’s all either too familiar or too stilted. In his extensive experience, he’s neither propositioned someone so high-ranking nor an immediate supervisor. There are several excellent reasons why his fantasy is so thoroughly against regulation. But there’s a single, overwhelming reason he doesn’t care: General Armitage Hux.  
         Not two hours later, he’s on his knees in the temporary lodgings of Captain Forfana—or possibly Forpana—an officer visiting the _Finalizer_ to assist in manoeuvers. He’s tall, slim, and in the right light his light brown hair could be taken for auburn. With a firm hand on the back of his head, Mitaka imagines it’s Hux down his throat. This is far from the first time, of course, and it won’t be the last.  
         “Mm,” the captain hums. “You’re quite the cocksucker, Lieutenant.” He runs his fingers through Dopheld’s hair, lightly and teasingly. “Tell me, would you like to get fucked tonight?”  
         Dopheld leans back, letting the head of the man’s cock brush against his lips. “Yes, sir. Please.” When he’d insisted on using formal titles, Forfana had simply smiled and agreed. When he’d asked to receive orders, he’d caught a light in the man’s eyes that showed they were both fully on board the proposed scene.  
         “I’m glad to hear that. How about you stand up and go to my bedside table? There’s something in the drawer you might appreciate.”  
         As he slides the drawer open, two items roll to the front. The first is the standard bottle of lubricant. The second is a string of beads. “Oh, sir,” he whispers, holding the beads between his hands for closer inspection. The largest one is quite big for this sort of toy, about seven centimetres wide to hazard a guess. Besides, they’re a rather fetching shade of aqua. Dopheld is accustomed to matte black and chrome sex toys, and the colour alone lends the object in his hands a bit of an exotic tint.  
         “Would you like those inside you, Lieutenant?” Forfana asks, now standing behind him, running his hands up and down Mitaka’s sides.  
         “Yes, Captain. But—”  
         “Oh, I’ll still fuck you, don’t you fret. Lie down on the bed.” Silently he guides Dopheld to the mattress and watches him stretch out on his stomach, then wets the beads with lubricant and hums as he works them in one at a time. “I just love your ass,” he observes, sounding almost clinically detached. “It’s so responsive. Begging for attention. You must not get enough dick.”  
         “I’m not sure what enough dick would look like,” Mitaka admits, turning his head to the side so he’s not talking into the pillow. “I’ve had hundreds and still want more.”  
         “Well, I hope mine satisfies you tonight. Damn shame I’m not stationed here permanently. I’d like to see how wide I could get you. Work my whole fist inside, maybe even the thick part of a wine bottle. If anyone’s ass could handle that, it would be yours. I’ve never seen such a slut. And I’ve hired my share of rent-boys.”  
         Half-proud and half-ashamed at what Forfana is proposing he could take, he listens to the wet sound of the officer jerking off as the last and largest bead vanishes inside him.  
         “When I pop these out,” Forfana warns, “I’ll be shoving my dick right in.”  
         “Please, sir.” When the captain breaches him, Mitaka doesn’t look back. He tells himself it’s Hux. The hands on his hips belong to the general. His whole body belongs to the general. He’d like to have it in legally binding writing.  
         Leaning across Mitaka’s back to whisper in his ear, Forfana begins, “So, you work on the bridge. How many of your COs have you bent over for?”  
         “Not enough,” he admits with a groan as his body relaxes to accommodate Forfana’s substantial length.  
         “One in particular, I imagine. You want the general.” It isn’t a question; this near-stranger knows all too well what Lieutenant Mitaka has been aching for.  
         No use denying it, then. “I do, sir.”  
         “You set your goals high, hm? Well, by the time he gets to you, you’ll be more practised than most hookers.” He chuckles. “Go ahead and call me ‘General,’ then, if you’d like.”  
         Mitaka can’t hold back a moan at the discovery that the captain is willing to be a stand-in, ready to assist if Hux is not. “Yes, General,” he breathes. “Thank you, sir.”  
         “When I come, where do you want it, Lieutenant?”  
         “In my ass, sir, please.” It’s how he prefers sex to finish, even when he isn’t imagining the man fucking him is Armitage Hux.  
         A smile audible in his voice, Forfana agrees, “Good answer. I’d like you to hold off until I’ve finished, if you don’t mind. So I can pay you my full attention when it’s your turn.”  
         Nodding fiercely, Mitaka answers, “Yes, General.”  
         “Mm. Very obliging; I appreciate that. I watch you on the bridge, you know. I find myself imagining the filthy things I’d order you to do.”  
         It’s perfect. The only thing that could improve the scenario would be hearing these words spoken in Hux’s own voice. “I’d do anything you asked of me, sir.”  
         “Is that because you’re such a cock-whore, or is it me?” the captain asks with a quiet chuckle.  
         “Both, General.”  
         Forfana laughs openly now. “Hell, Mitaka, I’d tear your trousers to your ankles and fuck you across your console, in full sight of everyone. So they’d know how I take what belongs to me.”  
         “Gods, sir… I want to belong to you.” He’s finally saying these things aloud, albeit to a proxy, but it’s still a relief to let it out.  
         Gripping Mitaka’s right shoulder with his right hand, Forfana uses the hold as leverage to speed up. “Say you’re mine. And say my name.”  
         “I belong to you, General Armitage Hux.”  
         “I own you,” he declares, moving his left hand to the other shoulder. “Your mouth, hands, and ass. Don’t I, Mitaka?”  
         “Yes, General Hux!”  
         The captain’s fingers twitch, then dig into his shoulders, and he rolls his hips abruptly and groans. “Fuck.”  
         Dopheld feels it, then: the heat seeping into the deepest part of him. And he’s coming, too, even though he hasn’t touched himself.  
         Easing out gently, Forfana inquires, “Good for you, Mitaka?”  
         “Gods, yes,” Dopheld pants. “Mind if I smoke?” After being fucked like that, if he isn’t permitted the luxury of completing the activity with tabac, he’ll have to leave here almost instantly to satisfy the craving.  
         “Not at all. I’ll fetch my own.” He pats Mitaka on the shoulder as he stands from the bed to remove a cigarra case from a briefcase on the floor. Returning with two cigarettes, he holds his sparker out to light Dopheld’s first. “You’re incredible, as I’m sure you know. I haven’t had a casual lay that good in a decade.”  
         “Thank you, sir.”  
         With a dismissive scoff, the man orders, “Don’t ‘sir’ me when my come’s still in your arse.”  
         Dopheld flushes and fumbles with his cigarette.  
         “As enjoyable as the role-play was, perhaps you should let Hux know. He does like men, and I can attest that you wouldn’t be the first subordinate he’s fraternised with. Besides, from what I’ve heard, you’re his type.”  
         “What? He has a thing for sluts?” Mitaka can hear the bitter edge in his voice, but he has little control over intonation when he’s coming down in someone else’s bed. Moments like this he’s particularly exposed—and it’s why he prefers to shy away from meaningful conversation after a hookup.  
         A furrow briefly crosses Forfana’s brow. “He has a thing for intelligent, adorable men who know what they’re doing in bed. Honestly, though, what gay man doesn’t?” Tapping the end of his cigarette into the ashtray on the nightstand, he adds, “There’s a reason you’re popular.”  
         “You knew of me before we met?”  
         A short nod. “Yes. A mutual acquaintance mentioned you by name before I left the _Absolution_. Yasarian Meternik.”  
         Thinking back, Dopheld can’t place the name. Of course, he’d never known the names of many of his partners. “Who?”  
         “He’s an investigator with the MP. I believe you two met about a standard year ago.” Forfana reaches for his tablet and scrolls through the screen to bring up Meternik’s headshot.  
         After a quick glance at the man’s face, Dopheld shrugs. “Oh.” Returning to puffing on his cigarette, he concludes, “Well, I’m sure he fucked me at some point.”  
         “He didn’t go into details. But you come highly recommended. Now I know why.”

 

Closing his eyes, Hux imagines the attentive licks and kisses are coming from someone else. Envisions instead the man who had sat beside him at the dinner table that night, blissfully unaware of Hux’s interest. The illusion doesn’t last long.  
         “How is it?” Ren asks.  
         “Adequate,” Hux allows. “Now keep quiet, for pity’s sake.” Talking is never the best use of the knight’s mouth.  
         Eventually, Ren does speak up again. “Want to fuck me tonight?”  
         Opening his eyes to look down, Hux sees dark eyes wide with hope. They’ve never gotten that far before; Hux has always managed to limit their interactions to manual and oral sex. He doesn’t want to give the knight reason to think there’s anything more between them than intermittent stress relief. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Ren?” he asks cooly, sounding as though he didn’t personally care one way or the other. By this point, he’s almost convinced that Ren enjoys the callous way in which he’s treated during these interactions. It certainly makes him try harder to please, to make a good impression, and Hux can use that to his advantage outside these rooms. For a few merciful days after he allows Ren to bring him off, the knight is far less confrontational.  
         Nodding desperately, Ren starts begging. “Please, Hux. I’ve wanted it for months. Wanted you.”  
         “Of course you have,” Hux answers patronisingly. “Well, what are you waiting for? Stand up and get out of those ridiculous clothes.”  
         The general purposefully doesn’t watch Ren undress. He knows the knight is proud of his body and doesn’t intend to encourage it by staring. Instead he walks to the bedroom to open a drawer and take out supplies. What precisely is he hoping will come from this, other than temporary release? A distraction from his own frustration? A more pliant Kylo Ren for a handful of day cycles?  
         He won’t pretend he hasn’t thought about this. Ren is attractive in a pathetic, broken sort of way. More than once, Hux has wondered if the man would let him pull his long hair. He’s guessed that Ren might be the type to cry with joy and gratitude after sex. He supposes he’s about to find out.  
         Sensing that Ren has entered the room behind him, Hux orders, “On the edge of the bed. Hands and knees.” He pretends that he hasn’t had the height of the bedframe adjusted to allow him to fuck while standing beside it. In his mind, he’d argued that raising it the eight centimetres above standard regulation was to provide additional storage space. “Spread your arse for me, Ren.” Unrolling a condom onto himself and lubricating it with one hand, he disinterestedly tests the knight with the other. “You’re lucky I’m desperate tonight.”  
         “Because Mitaka didn’t pay attention to you?”  
         Hux slaps Ren’s cheeks for that comment. “Don’t bitch about something when it’s working in your favour. Ready?”  
         “Yes.”  
         He enters, knowing he ought to have either prepared Ren more thoroughly or to go slower. Still, the knight doesn’t protest—the only sign of a struggle is a twitch in his shoulders and the fists his hands make in the corners of his pillow. “May I fuck you now?” he inquires, perhaps a bit too early, but the knight nods in silent assent. So Hux goes ahead, making shallow thrusts at first while his hands come to rest on the small of Ren’s back. _Fuck, you have gorgeous shoulders,_ he admits, though he’d never say it aloud.  
          _—Thanks._  
         “Get out,” the general snaps. “You know the rules.”  
         “Sorry. It’s just instinct.”  
         “Care to show some enthusiasm here?” Hux asks, hearing how cold he sounds. Ren begins to bounce back against him, but his rhythm is just slightly off. Hux tries to work with it, but eventually he huffs in exasperation and orders, “Quit wriggling around like a dying fish.”  
         “But it’s _good,_ ” the knight whines. “You want me to stay still? Like a dead fish?”  
         “I want you to move with me. Here, allow me to show you.” Grabbing hold of Ren’s prominent hipbones, he guides the man’s movements. “Arch your back, damn you,” he demands, pressing down on the small of Ren’s spine with a demonstrative elbow. _Maker, it’s like being with a virgin._ At that thought, he blinks in horror and stills. “This isn’t your first time bottoming, is it?” he asks sharply. The knight would be just the type of fool to neglect to inform his partner of this fact.  
         “No. It’s just… been a while.”  
         Shaking his head, Hux accepts that he’ll be doing most of the work tonight. And it isn’t bad; it certainly allows him ample opportunity to take out a year of grievances regarding the knight.  
         As it turns out, Ren _wants_ him to pull his hair. So that’s a bonus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More tags:  
> -Daddy kink  
> -Under-negotiated kink  
> -Non-negotiated kink  
> -Hitaka role-play
> 
> Note: The manner in which Hux treats Kylo in this chapter is, frankly, at least bordering on verbal and psychological abuse. Although that's not what he's intending, it is how it plays out. Hux's better intentions, frustration, and lack of decent role-models do not excuse his behaviour, nor do I condone it. I truly cannot over-emphasise the importance of negotiation when it comes to kink in the real world.
> 
> As always, you are more than welcome to shout at or with me on tumblr (@asherephraim).


	5. First Evening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thousand thanks to ktula and Deadsy for reviewing and copy-editing this chapter. I didn't want to screw anything up here, and their assistance was indispensable. (Any remaining screw-ups are solely my own.)

“Care to join me for a drink, Lieutenant?” Hux asks his adjutant at the end of their shifts.  
         Lieutenant Mitaka looks up at him and blinks several times in quick succession. “I… Why, sir?” His voice is startled, almost worried.  
         To put the young officer at ease as quickly as possible, Hux explains, “We’ve worked together for over a year. I spend hours standing next to you, but I feel I hardly know you at all.”  
         “Oh.” Brow slowly uncreasing, Mitaka sucks in a quick breath and answers, “Of course, sir.”  
         “If you’re free now, we could head straight to the lounge on forty three. The view is incredible.”  
         “I’m—I’m sure it is, sir,” the lieutenant stammers. “And I am free.”  
         They head out together in companionable silence—or at least that’s how Hux hopes it’s going. It takes about twelve minutes to arrive at the doorway to the lounge, where he swipes his access chip and ushers his guest inside.  
         “Welcome to where the upper echelons inebriate themselves,” he announces, wishing he had the courage to place his hand on Mitaka’s lower back. Instead he waves the young officer toward the outer wall with the view. Before he knows it, he’s sitting across from Lieutenant Mitaka in the same room where he’d first discovered the young officer was gay.  
         He orders a brandy, his usual, top-shelf. Mitaka orders a mid-shelf bourbon. They clink glasses (“to victory”) and take their first sips.  
         “You’re from Talam,” the general observes. Until recently, he’d known only a few key pieces of information about Mitaka’s homeworld. Firstly that it was an agricultural powerhouse and secondly it has a history of fierce loyalty to the Empire. Recently he has taken the time to learn that its residents are called Talamachs, they speak an odd language called Gailge, and many adhere to the sort of religion that permeates every aspect of daily life.  
         “Yes, sir.”  
         Not wishing for this conversation to proceed like an official interview, Hux allows, “You may dispense with formalities this evening. I looked over your profile recently,” he begins, not admitting to the multiple close readings of comportment complaints or the time he spent jerking off over pictures of a much younger Mitaka. “I noticed you have quite a large family.”  
         A brief frown follows. “Yes. Ten siblings, ranging from ten years my senior to thirteen younger.” With a shrug, he explains, “Rather religious parents. ‘Children are always a blessing,’ that sort of thing.”  
         “I can hardly imagine the chaos of such a large household.” As the general sips his brandy, he recalls that the Talamach Church disapproves of not only birth control but most permutations of human sexuality. In light of this information, Hux is even less likely to judge Dopheld Mitaka’s earlier indiscretions at all harshly. He’d been raised in an environment where only sex within heterosexual marriage for the purpose of reproduction was viewed as acceptable. The general hopes the lieutenant no longer sees it that way.  
         Mitaka flashes a grin across the table. “Well, it seemed normal at the time, of course. My last year at Arkanis, the living arrangements were an adjustment. Sharing quarters with only five others, weekly hot-water showers… It was shockingly quiet and civilised.” His smile now is one of pleasant reminiscence.  
         “Do you find yourself at all lonely here?” Hux finds himself asking, unsure where the conversation is going and suspecting he’s losing control over it.  
         The lieutenant opens his mouth but doesn’t speak right away. “Ah. Yes and no, I suppose,” he equivocates in the end.  
         “I haven’t any siblings myself,” Hux shares. “My life has always been rather quiet.”  
         “Says the galaxy’s youngest general and commander of hundreds of thousands of military personnel and trillions of credits-worth of materiel.” This is delivered with an easy smirk that makes Hux’s mouth go dry.  
         Grinning fiercely at his lieutenant’s summary, Hux clarifies, “I meant interpersonally.” His expression softens as he adds, “On that note, are you involved with anyone, Mitaka?”  
         The pensive frown that follows makes Hux instantly regret the question—but he has to ask if this evening is to go anywhere. “Romantically, you mean? No.”  
         “Nor am I. I’ve found it to be too time-consuming.”  
         “Yes. Although…” And here that smirk makes a heartening reappearance. “One can still enjoy oneself, with others. Outside of relationships.”  
         Leaning forward across the table, voice dropping half an octave, Hux inquires, “And do you? Enjoy yourself?” He wants to hear every scrap of prurient detail. Each breathless make-out session, any time Mitaka’s gone down on his knees on the floor of this ship. Hux wants the lieutenant to list the names he’s shouted, to repeat the filthy phrases he’s moaned. But perhaps there isn’t much to it; it’s possible that Commander Relik was more a deviation from the norm than standard procedure for Mitaka.  
         With a conspiratory grin, Dopheld answers, “Oh, I manage.”  
         Hux clears his throat and sits back. “Tell me, you don’t happen to be homosexual, do you?” He takes a steadying sip of his brandy as he waits for the answer with utmost patience. As though it doesn’t matter either way. As though he doesn’t already know.  
         “Ah, sir…” The lieutenant appears to make a snap judgement based on Hux’s open facial expression. Besides, he must know the awkward pause is confirmation enough. “Yes, I am.”  
         “In that case, you probably ought to inform Lieutenant Kamen that she should extinguish her hopes regarding you.”  
         Mitaka spits his most recent sip back into the glass it came from. “Kamen? Oh, dear. I didn’t think I was giving her any signals… Damn.” He shakes his head and attempts another sip. “How do you know about that, when I haven’t even noticed?”  
         Hux admires the embarrassed flush on Mitaka’s face, wondering if it ever appears in the bedroom, hoping it does. And hoping to find out. “I’m observant,” he explains. “One doesn’t reach my position without being able to read those around him.” Pointing to Dopheld’s empty glass, he asks, “Would you care for a refill?”  
         The lieutenant peers at the glass and sighs. “Yes, but I’ve reached my allowable limit.”  
         “In that case, would you like to accompany me to my quarters? I have some excellent whiskey for just this sort of night.”  
         Tilting his head, Mitaka smiles slowly. “Yes, sir. Yes, I would.”  
         Hux allows himself a relieved intake of breath. While he’d hoped this evening would end in his quarters, he hadn’t been expecting it. Now he stands and holds a gloved palm out to help Mitaka up from his seat. As he’s guiding the lieutenant out into the hallway—and discreetly admiring his rear, Hux’s comm buzzes.  
                   _ **KR:**  If your evening with DM doesn’t end up the way you hope, let me know. I’m not busy tonight._  
         Marking the message as “read” with a tap of a thumb, Hux slips the comm back into his coat pocket.

 

Dopheld can’t believe it. He’s here. In Hux’s quarters. In an attempt to keep his mind from exploding from this fact, he surveys the living area from the couch while Hux busies himself at the sideboard with their drinks. It’s well-appointed, classy without being gaudy. Mitaka thinks he could possibly not feel too out of place here. Then Hux turns to face him, hands him a glass, and their fingers touch. He’s instantly reminded of the moment the general had passed him the salt and pepper. Tonight he’s too dazed to move his hand right away, he remains in contact with Hux’s bare hand until he absolutely has to take full ownership of the glass.  
         The general takes a seat beside him. Their legs are touching.  
          _My thigh is touching Hux’s_ , he tells himself and wonders if this could set off an aneurysm. With regular full-body scans, he knows he doesn’t _have_ an aneurysm, but still feels as though current circumstances could both create and burst one within minutes. As it is, he can hardly breathe properly.  
         Hux’s comm rattles on the caf table, and picking it up, he makes an exasperated sound at the message on the screen.  
         “Anything I should know about, sir?” the lieutenant inquires, noting the frustrated look on Hux’s face. As the general’s job is made easier by reading his subordinates’ nonverbal language, so is Mitaka’s when it comes to Hux.  
         “Not particularly. Lord Ren is continuing to pester me.” Then, setting aside the comm and sighing, he adds, “I only wish he grasped the concept of a pity fuck.”  
         Mitaka raises his eyebrows as he takes in the meaning behind this statement. _Oh, dear._ He blinks in an attempt to quash mental images of Hux alone with Ren. He caught sight of the knight bare-faced once, and was startled by what he saw. Youth, conflict, and an unmistakable earnestness in his dark eyes and on his full lips. Before he can resist the thought, he wonders if Hux pulled the man’s hair.  
         In the meantime, the general continues his explanation, waving a hand in the air dismissively. “It was a one-off thing. I imagine you can understand.”  
         “Of course, sir,” the lieutenant agrees with a nod. “Pity has been the motivating factor for most of the men who’ve chosen to be with me.”  
         Hux appears to be taken aback by this. “Surely you jest,” he insists.  
         The lieutenant shrugs. “I’m simply being honest with myself.” This is one thing he does exceptionally well: brutal self-honesty.  
         “But look at you.”  
         Obediently glancing down at himself, Mitaka frowns. “I’m rather short and slight, at least compared to other military men. I try to make up for it by being an excellent cocksucker.” Once someone takes that initial pity on him, he makes sure to reward the man properly.  
         “Oh, that’s just icing on the cake, then.” Setting his glass down and extending a hand toward his lieutenant’s face, Hux asks, “May I?”  
         “Certainly, sir,” Mitaka says, believing he’s agreeing to a simple comforting gesture. Hux’s hand cups his chin and tilts his face up.   
         “You’re bloody  _gorgeous_ , Mitaka.” The lieutenant shuts his eyes in disbelief at the affirming statement. He must be hearing things. But then the general leans in and kisses him softly before whispering into his ear. “That night I fucked Ren, I admit was working out a certain measure of frustration. Because I’d spent the evening attempting to attract  _your_  attention at dinner.”  
         Blinking in shock at the kiss as much as the confession, Mitaka stares at the redhead uselessly. His lips feel numb where Hux’s had pressed against them. “Sir?” The night they’d had dinner, when the general handed him the salt and pepper. When he’d gone out later looking for someone who outranked him. That whole time, it turned out that Hux had been hoping for  _him_  to take notice. And now his CO has just kissed him on his couch. Dopheld is stumbling as he attempts to catch up with reality.  
         Hux’s hand hesitantly drops to the lieutenant’s waist, and he smiles a bit shyly. “Full disclosure, Lieutenant. Some months back, in the officers’ lounge, I overheard a commander mention your name. He said he’d spent an evening with you, and I believe he referred to you as not only pretty, but ‘feisty’.”  
         Feeling a slight flush on his cheeks, Mitaka glances away and asks, “Relik? He’s a good kisser. Or was it Vanalda?” He doesn’t provide any additional information about Vanalda.  
         “I believe it was Relik. He seemed pleasant enough,” the general allows. Then with a sidelong glance at his lieutenant, he inquires lowly, “How many of my officers have you been with, Mitaka?”  
         Dopheld looks down at his shoes and frowns. “A decent number.”  _Indecent, more like._  
         Hux leans over and begins to kiss his neck. “Don’t be ashamed of your experience, Lieutenant.” He threads his fingertips through Dopheld’s hair. “I don’t mind at all.”  
         “You’re not… disappointed in me?” Mitaka asks, tilting his head to give the general better access to his neck. For a moment he’s worried about carrying marks home—then his pulse flutters at the thought and he actively  _hopes_  for that outcome.  
         “Not at all. In fact, I’d quite like to hear more about your exploits. But first…”  
         The lieutenant looks up into Hux’s pale blue eyes. “Anything, sir.” It’s a terribly easy promise to make.  
         “Well, since you brought it up, I would like to see what you can do with this mouth.” He taps Mitaka’s lower lip with the pad of his thumb. “That is, if you’re interested?”  
         “Of course I am, sir.” With a knowing smile, Dopheld moves from the couch to the floor. This is something he’s become very comfortable with. The moment he has his hands on a man’s belt, pulls his trousers down, and sets to work, he feels useful. Appreciated. He’s always grateful for the opportunity to prove himself to be worthwhile. In a bit of a trance now, he watches Hux undo his belt buckle and open his fly. Mitaka cups a hand around the bulge in the briefs to get a sense of his size. He kisses him through the cloth and feels a responding twitch underneath.  
         Hux reaches down to tousle his hair. “Don’t be such a tease, now,” he says gently.  
         Mitaka grins and pulls both trousers and briefs down to Hux’s ankles. “Oh, Maker, sir,” he breathes. Light freckles dust the man’s skin everywhere, and his hardening cock is nestled in a tuft of trimmed ginger hair. And fuck, if he’d thought the general smelled pleasant before, he’d had no idea what he was in for. He instantly feels much drunker than he is. Almost giddy.  
         “Yes?”  
         “I just…” He takes a moment to clear his throat nervously. “It’s been a while since I’ve been with a true redhead.”   
         “I’ll never understand the draw, but you won’t hear me complain.”  
         Chuckling under his breath, Mitaka swipes his tongue up Hux’s length before securing his lips around the head.  
         “Ah.” Hux leans back against the cushions and settles in.  
         Taking a moment to spit into his palm, Mitaka works the shaft with his hand until it’s fully erect. Then he angles it towards his mouth and swallows it down in its entirety. He begins bobbing his head, hollowing his cheeks as he does.  
         “Fucking hell. Oh, Maker,  _yes_. Don’t stop. Don’t you dare.” He grips the lieutenant by the shoulders and softly moans, “Mitaka.”  
         Raising his gaze, Mitaka sits back on his heels to speak. “You may call me Dopheld, sir.”  
         With a laugh, Hux nods and agrees, “Alright. But you needn’t keep referring to me as ‘sir’. ‘Hux’ will do just fine.”  
         “If you don’t mind, sir, I rather like it.”  
         One eyebrow arched, Hux considers this. “Very well.” Mitaka returns to taking him into and out of his throat. “Dopheld.”  
         Soon, he grabs Dopheld by the hair at the top of his head and pulls him back. “Stop, Dopheld. Stop. It’s too good. I don’t want to finish yet.”  
         “Would you like to fuck me, then?” Mitaka asks, a strand of saliva dangling from his lower lip for a moment before he reaches up to wipe it off on the back of a hand. He’s prepared to do anything for his general, now and anytime.

 

Hux’s words stutter in response. This is all very sudden. He wasn’t aiming for more than a blowjob tonight. “I, well… Of course I would. You’d want that?”  
         Mitaka’s brow furrows. “I wouldn’t have suggested it otherwise. So, what do you think?”  
         “I… Oh, bloody hell, yes.” The general extends his hands, palm up. “Stand up and let’s move to the bedroom.”  
         Once there, Mitaka promptly strips out of his clothes and practically throws himself at the general. Hux wasn’t expecting this either. He wonders how many years of his life Dopheld spent being sexually repressed, guesses it’s a significant number. As Dopheld helps him out of his own uniform, Hux guides the two of them toward the nightstand and blindly fumbles for the drawer. Eventually managing to pull out a bottle of lubricant, he tosses it onto the bed. Mitaka takes the hint and climbs onto the mattress.  
         The general reaches back into the drawer to fish around for a condom. Dopheld gives him a bit of a look. “You’re clean, right?”  
         “Yes.”  
         “As am I, sir. So you can put that thing right back where you found it.”  
         Frowning, Hux asks, “You don’t want to see my clearance?” Why ever not? This is standard operating procedure if one is discussing foregoing protection. Hux has known this since he was sixteen.  
         “I trust you, sir.”  
         Hux wonders how many people Dopheld trusts like this. He catches himself thinking that the lieutenant is almost  _asking_  to be hurt, then berates himself for that mindset. Loneliness and frustration aren’t an invitation to abuse. Nothing is. “I’m going to show you anyway,” he announces, suddenly feeling remorse over the way he treated Ren. He tries to be better than the generations of men who came before him, but their legacy is difficult to break away from entirely.  
         “Suit yourself.” Dopheld waits for the redhead to retrieve his tablet from the living room and punch up his latest results.  
         “Have a look.”  
         Glancing over the electronic form cursorily, Mitaka states, “I believed you. Care to see mine?” he asks, holding a hand out for the device. He accesses his own account and displays the screen to the general. “There. Can we please get started now?” he asks, tapping his foot against the bedframe, clearly impatient.  
         Hux joins Mitaka on the mattress and guides him to lie back before straddling his waist and going in for a deep kiss. “Fuck,” he drawls, trailing his fingertips across Dopheld’s collarbone. “How do you not see how attractive you are?”  
         “I see it right now,” Dopheld answers with a smirk, slowly stroking Hux’s dick, still damp with his spit. The expression he’s wearing is nearly identical to that image Hux first jerked off to, a fact that makes the general twitch into his hand. “How do you want me, sir?”  
         “Any preferences, Dopheld?”  
         “My preference is what gets you off, sir.”  
         After a handful of compliments and a few kisses, Mitaka is already offering so much. If Hux didn’t respect the man, he’d easily be able to take significant advantage of the situation. A bit bewildered by Dopheld’s amenability, the general decides to make it work for him to start. “Why don’t you ride me?”  
         “Oh, gladly.” Taking hold of the bottle, Dopheld pops the cap and pours a helping of slick into one palm as they switch places on the bed.  
          _Damn_ , Hux thinks, realising Dopheld’s about to do the prep as well.  _You’re making this too easy._  He guesses that few people fully appreciate this man; Dopheld certainly acts as though that’s the case. “Would you like my assistance?” he offers. How many of his officers have treated Mitaka’s body like a perquisite of their position? How many times has a casual blow job evolved into a hard shag because the lieutenant is simply agreeable and lonely?  
         “No, thank you,” Mitaka declines politely. “It’ll be quicker this way.” He reaches back and works two fingers in to start with.  
         Duly impressed with the pace and skill of the proceedings, Hux lets out a low whistle. After the pure awkwardness in human form that is Kylo Ren, the redhead is thrilled at Mitaka’s grace. “You certainly know what you’re doing,” he observes. But he has a suspicion that Dopheld might be worried that he’ll discourage a potential partner by obliging him to put forth more than minimal effort.  
         “I’m a bit of a slut, sir,” Dopheld admits with a grin. “And I can’t wait to have you inside me.” With that, he removes his fingers, clambers onto Hux’s lap, positions himself, and sinks down.   
         Hux’s thighs tremble as Mitaka takes him expertly. He hasn’t been bare inside anyone for some time, and the soft heat has his mouth feeling instantly parched. Right away the lieutenant starts rolling his hips and smiles.  
         “So eager,” Hux murmurs, gazing up at Mitaka, feeling dazed.  
         “So  _good_.” Giving a few quick bounces, Dopheld throws his head back, exposing his neck. “Fuck.” He gyrates his hips in a circle, grinding down. “I’ve wanted this for so long, General.”  
         No one has moaned his rank in bed since his last promotion. Hux’s pulse skyrockets. “That’s it, Dopheld. Take what you want.” Again, he relishes pronouncing the lieutenant’s given name. He’s spent hours imagining what it would feel like to murmur that name to the man it belongs to and not into an empty room (or accidentally to someone else).   
         “Maker.” One hand braced on Hux’s shoulder, the other wanking himself. “Oh, yes, that’s perfect, sir. You can fuck me anytime you’d like.”  
         “Yes? Anytime I please?”  
         “Yes, sir,” he promises breezily. “I’m all yours.”  
         Hux reaches a hand up and grasps Dopheld by the throat. He doesn’t squeeze, but the gesture of power is clear. “I could keep you after a strategy briefing and order you to suck me off under the conference table?”  
         “Of course, General.”  
         “Call you into my office, pull your trousers down, and take you bent over the desk?” Ideas are flooding his mind and he’s tilting his pelvis up to meet Mitaka’s movements.  
         “Fuck,  _please_ , sir,” Dopheld pants.  
         Hux moans. “Get up and onto your hands and knees, Dopheld. I want to have you from behind.”  
         Dopheld jumps to comply. Head tucked between his forearms, back dipped, ass in the air, he’s the illustration of enthusiastic bottoming. Hux grips the lieutenant by the waist and enters him forcefully. He doesn’t always fuck like this, but Mitaka has him in the mood for wielding control. “There. Ready to take it?”  
         “Yes, yes, I’ve been ready for  _ages_ ,” Dopheld pants. “Give it to me, sir. Fucking plough me.”  
         The lieutenant’s energy must be somewhat contagious, because Hux thrusts harder and faster than he has in about a decade. “Such a sweet arse. I want to wreck it.”  
         “Use it however you’d like,” the young officer demands. “And I want you to come in me.”  
         Hux’s stomach lurches in excitement. It’s been so long. Years of casual partners and always using condoms. Too much time spent being reasonable and playing it safe. “Dirty little thing.”  
         “Yes, I am. Go on and call me names, General. I like it.”  
         He’d arch an eyebrow if he weren’t so aroused by this. “You  _are_  quite a slut, Mitaka. You do know that?” Rather than intending this as an insult, Hux is deeply thrilled at discovering something he hadn’t allowed himself to fully consider: that Mitaka might be discreetly promiscuous. That he’d been carrying on as he had at the Academy, but been quiet about it.  
         “Yes, sir. Your slut tonight.”  
         “And anytime I want, remember?”  
         Gripping the nearest pillow with both fists, the lieutenant swears, “Maker, yes, General.”  
         “I will, you know. Have you repeatedly. Now that I know what a sweet whore you are. No need to jerk off to the thought of you anymore, since you’re available to amuse me. My adjutant and rent-boy.” In this state, Hux means every word. Professionalism be damned—he’s wasted too much time already when it comes to Lieutenant Mitaka.  
         Dopheld gasps as Hux adjusts his angle. “I’m close, sir,” he warns, panting.  
         “Good. As am I.” Hoping they can coordinate their climaxes, he asks, “You want this, Dopheld?”  
         Mitaka nods over and over. “Yes, sir. Please fill me up.”  
         “Maker, I will.” Now he’s chasing his release with abandon. “Come with me, my pretty little lieutenant. Show me how much you like this.” He plants a series of sloppy kisses on Dopheld’s neck and shoulders, wanting to maximise points of contact with the young man’s body.  
         “I love it, oh, sir, I  _love_  it.”  
         General Hux cries out and begins to empty. While he’s still spurting, Mitaka’s back shudders and his arse clenches around him in waves.

 

During their recovery, Hux recognises the way Mitaka reaches for his jacket and begins patting down the pockets.  
         “Do you smoke, Dopheld?” he asks, sliding open his bedside drawer and removing his own cigarettes. He tosses the packet onto the sheets and nods to it in an offering gesture.  
         The lieutenant returns to the bed. “Yes. Especially after sex.”  
         “So quite a lot, then?” the redhead quips.  
         Dopheld throws him a smile before lighting up. “Wow,” he breathes after his first puff. “Where do you get these?”  
         “Special order through Salient. They’re Corellian in origin.”  
         “So,” Dopheld begins, blowing smoke up at the ceiling before he announces the next topic of conversation. “Kylo Ren.”  
         “Human disaster,” Hux declares succinctly.  
         “That’s not surprising. How is he in bed?”  
         “Pretty much the same.” Hux frowns. “I don’t mean to say that he’s terrible. He has a beautiful body and he’s not useless. But he is needy and socially stunted.”  
         Mitaka bites his lower lip and doesn’t directly respond to this. “How many times have you two fucked?”  
         “Just the once. Before that he’d blown me a few times.”  
         Dopheld shakes his head. “Given the way you interact on the bridge, I would have guessed he’d be more likely to shiv you between the ribs than give you head.”  
         “He’s a strange man. All emotional conflict. Probably wasn’t hugged enough as a child.” He recognises this is an odd comment, coming as it does from a man who was never embraced until his first romantic encounter. Tapping his own cigarette into the ashtray, Hux turns to Mitaka. “But I’d much rather talk about you.”  
         Mitaka squints up at the ceiling as his exhaled smoke curls toward the ventilation shaft. “You mentioned masturbating to the thought of me.”  
         “Yes. You’ve been my predominant fantasy for months now.”  
         Letting out a puff of breath, Dopheld shakes his head. “Oh. I never thought you’d be interested. Otherwise I would’ve dropped hints.” He frowns. “I shut off any hopes of having you from the very beginning.”  
         “As had I, with you. But then I couldn’t help it, after I overheard…” he trails off with a grin.  
         “I should be clear, though. When I said I’m a slut, it wasn’t just dirty talk. I meant it.”  
         “Tell me, then: How many Finalizer personnel have had you?” He watches the lieutenant stiffen warily. “I’m not about to judge, I swear it.”  
         Mitaka squints one eye as he estimates. “About fifty have fucked me. I’ve blown perhaps another hundred.”  
         “That’s impressive. You’ve only been here for what, fourteen months?”  
         “Fifteen.”  
         “Still, you’ve been busy.” He stretches slowly. “I’d like to hear a great deal of detail about your encounters.”  
         “I hate to be bored, sir,” Dopheld states as though explaining why he took up studying another language. “But you truly aren’t disappointed?”  
         “Why would I be disappointed that you enjoy yourself? As long as you’re safe and satisfied, I take no issue with your hobbies. Besides, I rather get off on it.”  
         “Oh.” He turns his head away, but Hux still catches his hopeful little smile.

 

Dopheld walks to the nearest lifts. As he presses the call button, he feels the first evidence of this evening’s activities leak into his briefs.  
         It’s Hux’s.  
         At that thought, his dick pathetically attempts to get hard again. In the lift he dares to lean against the back wall and shut his eyes. He breathes deeply. As he relaxes, another measure of the general’s release escapes his body. From experience, he knows it’s likely less dramatic than it feels. Otherwise he’d be concerned about the obvious wet spot growing on the seat of his trousers.  
         By the time he unlocks his door, he can feel Hux’s seed tickling the backs of his thighs. Holy hell, how big of a load did he take? Stepping into the fresher, he removes his trousers before peeling off his briefs and inspecting them.  
         If he didn’t know better, he’d suspect he’d wet them. Bringing the soiled cloth to his face, he breathes in. He has to clutch the edge of the counter as a wave of dizziness overtakes him.  
         His underthings smell of Hux. He dares dab a fingertip into the glistening pool and brings it to his lips. Letting the briefs fall into the sink, he slides his other hand between his cheeks and taps a finger against his sloppy entrance. Dipping it just inside, he gasps and grins. Looking at himself in the mirror, he whispers, “Thank you, sir.” He catches sight of two red blotches on his neck—it seems Hux did in fact leave marks.  
         After a quick turn in the sonic, Dopheld lies in his bed and reflects on what Hux had revealed to him. His CO has been jerking off to the thought of him for months. But he’d only become interested after hearing about Dopheld’s extra-curriculars. So the fantasy is more about his promiscuity than about him.   
         He’d heard the way Hux had moaned when he’d called him “General” and couldn’t help but note the excitement in his CO’s voice when Hux had proposed ordering him to service him on duty. Which means there’s a significant power trip in play as well.  
         _Ah, well._  If Hux wants him, it shouldn’t much matter why. Mitaka is finally getting what he wanted. And Maker, if the sex weren’t already fantastic. How much better is it going to get as they become accustomed to one another?  
         Of course this isn’t about Dopheld as an individual; it never is. If he’s appreciated, it’s because of what he’s willing to do with his body for near-strangers. Because he’s easy, he’s overeager to please, he’ll do it bare, he doesn’t complain if someone wants to tie him up or push him around.  
         Because he’s such a good boy. Always has been. Subservient Dopheld Mitaka, filled with self-doubt and lust in equal measure.  
         Frowning now, he recalls how he returned to his room nearly giddy with Hux’s scent clinging to him. With a grin on his face and his general’s come just beginning to drip out of his sore arsehole. He’d been happy; why couldn’t it ever last? Why does he have to ruin everything with his brain?  
         Dopheld wakes up hard. Vaguely he recalls dreaming about Hux—the general had been standing behind him as he looked out the bridge viewport, kissing his neck.  
         Reaching to touch himself, Dopheld remembers Hux’s promise last night. That he’ll want his lieutenant again.  
         “Please, sir,” he whispers aloud. “Have me over and over.” Visualising Hux’s office, Mitaka imagines himself on the other side of the desk for the first time, bent forward across it. With Hux’s hands—gloved, preferably—gripping his waist like a vice. “Use me, General,” he begs. And since he doesn’t have much time to indulge himself, he works his fist furiously. “Yes, Hux!” he shouts at the ceiling when he empties.  
         In the sonic, he wonders how long it will be before his CO discovers how broken he truly is. Finds out that Dopheld has never recovered from his hospital stay at fifteen? Instantly his arm aches again, the ghost of pain long since actually vanished.  
         How long can he hide this? Hux is known for his attention to detail, his knack for parsing the motivations of others. Mitaka is doomed. Because try as he might, he can’t trick himself into believing that Hux would willingly put up with his baggage. But until the general discovers the truth and promptly gives up on him, Dopheld will take and treasure what he can get.


	6. Unprofessional Behaviour

On the bridge the next morning, he can’t help but sneak glances at Mitaka repeatedly. The lieutenant is perfectly put together, his dignified bearing and tidy appearance giving no indication of how he’d been… (taken—ploughed—fucked) … enjoyed by his CO the night before.  
        _Maker_. Hux quietly clears his throat.  
        A flash of memory: Mitaka—no, _Dopheld_ —astride him, head canted back, throat exposed. _(I’m all yours.)_ With his trousers becoming increasingly restrictive, he forces his focus away.  
        He has to be professional, at least while they’re both on the clock. (Does he? Really?) Of course he does. There are standards to uphold. (No one will know. Mitaka isn’t going to tell anyone.)  
        Brushing down the front of his tunic, he strides over to the lieutenant’s workstation, telling himself that this is a test of his willpower. Unfortunately, he isn’t certain whether he wants to pass.

 

  
When Hux places one gloved palm on the counter beside Mitaka’s console, the junior officer can’t help but jump slightly in his seat. “Morning, Lieutenant,” Hux announces breezily.  
        Mitaka can feel his heartbeat in his throat. “Good morning, sir,” he answers a bit hoarsely. It’s difficult to look at the general without replaying flashes of last night. _(Ride me. Dirty little thing. My adjutant and rent-boy.)_  
        Briefly he smiles at the thought of updating his calling card.

 _Dopheld Mitaka_  
_Lieutenant First Class_  
_Adjutant and Rent-Boy to_  
_General Armitage Hux_

The general leans in over his shoulder and takes a sharp breath before speaking. “At the risk of sounding horrifically unprofessional—”  
        “Go ahead, sir,” Dopheld murmurs, needling his lower lip with his teeth and resolving not to risk a glace at the man beside him.  
        “I keep reflecting on last night.”  
        “And how are you feeling about it, General?” he asks, hoping beyond hope that Hux doesn’t regret it.  
        “Quite pleased. Anticipating future nights, as a matter of fact.”  
        “Oh. Oh, good. I’m glad, sir.” He permits himself a flash of a smile and sneaks a sideways look at Hux. In doing so, he forgets how to breathe. The general has continued speaking in the meantime.  
        “Unfortunately, I’m otherwise engaged this evening. Perhaps tomorrow we could see each other off the clock?”  
        “Absolutely, sir.” He has nothing planned, but would giddily clear his schedule for the general.  
        “Excellent. Carry on, Lieutenant.”

 

At 1204, Hux has moved to his office when his comm rattles on the desk.

 _ **KR:** How was last night?_  
_**AH:** I don’t make it a habit to kiss and tell._  
_**KR:** … or fuck and tell?_  
_**AH:** Precisely._  
_**KR:** If you won’t tell me, would you show me?_  
_**AH:** You’re out of your mind, Ren._

         And to think he’d just been able to extricate thoughts of Mitaka from the forefront of his mind. Drumming his gloved fingertips along the edge of the desk, he halfheartedly curses Ren.  
         While attempting to review reconnaissance reports, Hux is bombarded with snippets of memories. Spittle glistening on Dopheld’s chin. Belts clanking to the floor. _(I’ve wanted this for so long.)_  
         As had Hux. He flips through to another report, but all he can think of is the distinctive mole on Mitaka’s jaw, the twin dimples on his pelvis, the soft “oh” he’d let out shortly before orgasm. _(You can fuck me anytime you’d like.)_    
         The general makes it to 1330 before he sends a summons. It isn’t as though he’s been able to focus on work anyway—he might as well press his luck.

 _Lt Mitaka, please report to my office at your earliest convenience._  
_Thank you,_  
_Gen Hux_

 

Mitaka doesn’t allow himself to imagine that this summons could be for anything other than professional purposes. He’s received plenty of requests like this from Hux in the time he’s been stationed here. Still, his heart rate spikes as he heads down the hallway. Seeing the general on the bridge today has increased his self-consciousness, rendering him painfully aware of but still unable to control his nervous gait and trembling hands.  
         Pressing the intercom, he announces himself. “Lieutenant Mitaka, sir.” Hux buzzes him in. The door slides shut behind him as he steps inside. “You requested my presence, sir?”  
         “Indeed I did,” Hux confirms with a nod and a distant smile.  
         “How may I assist you, General?”  
         “Come here, Lieutenant,” the redhead casually orders with a wave of his hand.  
         With a quizzical look, Mitaka walks up to stand beside Hux’s chair.  
         “About your offer from last night. Are you still interested?”  
         “Of course, sir,” Dopheld breathes. He doesn’t make idle offers.  
         Hux rises from his chair. “In that case, I’d like you to remove your belt and pull your trousers and briefs down to your ankles.”  
         “Yes, sir,” he agrees, already moving to obey his orders. Hux stands behind him and opens a drawer to remove a small item. Dopheld doesn’t need to look closely to know it’s a single-use packet of lubricant.  
         “Bend forward over the desk, Lieutenant.”  
         Doing so, Mitaka marvels at how Hux’s tone of voice is perfectly level, as though what they’re about to do were entirely professional. The general nudges his legs apart with a knee. Hux removes his gloves and lays them on the desk. One bare hand grips the side of Mitaka’s ass while the other rubs a generous amount of lubricant between the cheeks.  
         “I’ve been thinking about this all day, Dopheld.” He eases a slicked finger inside. “All fucking day.” Letting out a gust of air as a soundless laugh, he continues, “Since we won’t have time this evening, I figured we might as well…” As he trails off, he curls his fingertip to press against Dopheld’s prostate.  
         Mitaka gasps and concentrates on relaxing, a difficult feat in his pleasure and anticipation. He has plenty of practice at this, although not nearly enough with Hux. Hopefully that will change. “Give me another, please, sir.” Complying, Hux begins to stretch him. “Please, General. You needn’t be such a gentleman.”  
         “No? You want it that badly?”  
         Dopheld nods at the desktop.  
         “Well, I’m more than ready.” He points at the drawer that’s still ajar, displaying another packet. “Do you want me to use that?”  
         They’ve already had this conversation and he’s insulted by the question—his answer won’t change simply because it’s daytime and he’s on duty. “No, sir, I certainly do not.”  
         “Very well.” Taking himself in a wet fist, Hux breaches him smoothly. He leans forward against Dopheld’s back and kisses his neck. “Such a good boy.”  
         “Thank you, General.”  
         “Now, as much as I’d love to take my time, I know we both have a great deal of work to do.”  
         It’s second nature for Mitaka to answer, “Fuck me hard and fast, then.”  
         After a few slow glides to warm up, Hux slams into him, holding him by the waist and watching Mitaka’s arse bounce against his pelvis. “Go on and wank yourself off, Dopheld.”  
         “I’ll make a mess,” the lieutenant warns his superior.  
         “In that case, you’ll have to clean it up.”  
         “Oh, hell, sir,” Mitaka groans, voice muffled by the metal surface against his lips. “You want me to lick it off your desk?”  
         “Yes. You’ll do that for me, won’t you, Lieutenant?”  
         “Of course, General.”  
         Hux shifts an arm to fold it across Dopheld’s chest. He holds the man close against him. “There. Take it like the dirty little slut we both know you are.”  
         The lieutenant shudders and moans, “You’re going to make me come very soon.”  
         Immediately Hux turns Dopheld’s face to one side to catch his lips in a hasty kiss. “Then come now. With my dick up your sweet arse.” With a low whine, Dopheld shoots across the surface of the desk, then goes limp in the general’s arms. Hux allows him to relax for a moment before bending him forward with a hand on the back of his neck.  
         “Clean up your mess the way you promised, Lieutenant. Whilst I’m still fucking you.” Sighing while Dopheld licks his ejaculate off the desk, Hux adds, “I’m close. Where do you want it? On your back? In your mouth?”  
         “No. Inside me, please, General.”

 

Hux takes no issue with Dopheld’s insistence, but has to make certain the lieutenant is aware of the practical consequences. “Are you sure you want to return to the bridge like that?”  
         “Yes. I want to feel it dripping out of me while I’m working.”  
         Hux groans at that thought. “Filthy thing. Gods. Fuck. _Dopheld_.” The name feels so good in his mouth; almost as good as the man’s bare arse. It all bleeds together during his release. Pleasure. Power. Dopheld. Finally.  
         An hour later, Hux rejoins his team on the bridge. Eventually he makes his way to stand beside Mitaka’s console. Leaning in to his ear, the general asks, “Are you still wet from me?”  
        Flushing, the lieutenant stammers, “Yes, sir. It’s… um. It’s leaking out of me as we speak.”  
        Hux hisses in satisfaction. “This should become a regular activity, then.” In his usual tone of voice, he concludes, “Carry on, Mitaka.” As he strides purposefully away, he imagines Mitaka working attentively at his console while _his_ ejaculate slowly trickles into his briefs. Wondering if anyone can tell, if his outward behaviour is different in any way. Can the other crew-members smell the scent of sex on him? Are they wondering who’d dare fuck a bridge officer in the middle of his shift?  
        He clenches his gloved hands into fists and relaxes them as a way to release some of his excess energy. Feeling refreshed, he knows he’ll have no trouble focusing on his work now.

 


	7. Not a Date

“How about dinner?” Hux asks the next day as Mitaka is leaving for his lunch break. “Tonight?”

         “Like a date?”

         Noting the lieutenant’s sceptical expression, he asks, “Would that be a problem?”

         “I don’t date,” Mitaka answers flatly.

         Hux’s brow knits. He finds this revelation somewhat disturbing. It disappoints him enough that Mitaka doesn’t want to date _him_ , but hearing that he has a strict no-relationship policy is worrisome. “No?”

         “No.” The young officer shakes his head and continues his protestation. “Not since… Not anymore.” His gaze is distant; he’s remembering something he’d prefer not to.

_What happened? What did he do to you?_

         Dopheld continues, explaining, “I’m not built for monogamy, or even relationships.”

         “Well, I’m not one for monogamy, either.” Wanting to watch your partner with other people makes monogamy difficult. Still, Hux has had relationships, and something in the back of his mind suggests he’s overdue for another. “But I’d like to see you again. Privately and for an extended period with little risk of interruptions.”

         “If you just want sex, though, why invite me to dinner?”

         “Because it’s foreplay. And it’s polite.” Because Hux doesn’t just want sex. He wants conversation and companionship. He wants to spend time with Dopheld Mitaka. Maker, does he want a relationship?

         Dopheld has yet to answer.

         “Also, it’s a direct order.”

         “Yes, sir,” Mitaka agrees sulkily.

 

 

During their second glass of wine, Hux dares to ask, “How many men have you been with, in total?”

         “Are you asking specifically about penetration, or does oral count?” Not that it matters either way. At this point, he’s just stalling that revelation.

         Hux shrugs. “Penetration, I suppose.”

         “Ah.” Dopheld lowers his eyes before looking away. “To be honest, sir…” He takes a deep inhalation and lets out the truth. “I don’t know.” This is the main reason he’d attempted to shy away from dinner; he’d wanted to avoid just this sort of conversation.

         “You don’t know,” Hux repeats in a steady tone.

         “No. I’ve tried to add them up several times—using my notes—but a lot of them blend together and… It’s been too many now.” He’s about to continue, to explain that it’s like asking an alcoholic how many times he’s been drunk, when Hux speaks again.

         “That’s such a bloody turn-on.” His voice is changed, gravelly and dark.

         “What?” For the past three days, Dopheld has wrestled off and on with the nagging suspicion that Hux is secretly shaking his head at his activities.

         “It is. I’ll be honest myself.” Hux leans back, swirling the remaining wine in his glass, watching the low light reflect inside it. “I’m a voyeur. It sounds like I’ve struck gold with you.”

         “Oh.”

         “You’re not used to hearing this,” Hux hazards.

         “No. Other men are eager to enjoy my skills, but don’t want to think about how I learned them.”

         “Other men are bloody hypocrites. They want their sexual partners to magically be incredibly skilled without having been with other people. It’s ridiculous. I suppose each wants to imagine he’s the only one you’re interested in casually fucking.” He shakes his head. “When did you start, age-wise?”

         “Fifteen. It was just blowjobs back then. Gave up my virginity at sixteen.” He doesn’t phrase it aloud the way he does in his mind—because he’d _thrown_ away his innocence as soon as he’d seen a halfway decent opportunity. The older boy had been attractive and gentle enough. At the time, Dopheld had tried not to dwell on the way Riordan had shared a silent cigarette with him before thanking him perfunctorily and walking away, leaving him alone with a sticky mess between his ass cheeks and all his doubts crowding his mind.

         “I was eighteen before I did more than kiss.”

         “Really?”

         “Really. It took me a while to reconcile myself with my desire for men.” He sighs. “I made do with porn until I entered Arkanis. But you… you didn’t have concerns about your sexuality, even when you were that young?”

         “I didn’t have _doubts_ , if that’s what you’re asking. As far as concerns… There were complications,” he concludes darkly. “I worked through them. With a parade of boys and young men who were more than happy to enjoy my body.”

         “That sounds rather passive on your end. Do you always bottom?”

         “I’ve tried topping a few times. It’s not bad, but it’s a great deal of effort for something that doesn’t come naturally to me.”

         Hux nods, accepting this. “That’s fine. Everyone has his preferences.” Something changes in his expression, and he perks up in his chair. “You mentioned you have notes?”

         “Yes. I’ve documented most of my… encounters. In a personal log.”

         “How detailed are these entries?”

         “It depends on how noteworthy a given interaction was.”

         “Maker, but I’d love it if you were to share some of those with me.”

         “I’m sure I can loan you a representative volume.”

         Hux rises from his chair and, offering his hand, leads Dopheld to the couch.

         “Have you ever acted on your voyeurism kink?” the lieutenant asks, cocking his head.

         Hux smiles. “Yes. Not nearly as often as I’d like, but I’ve had a handful of opportunities to watch.”

         “I’d love to perform for you.”

         “You’d do that?”

         “Gladly. I’m sure I can find some men who wouldn’t mind, either.”

         With that, Hux lunges for him, grabs him by the waist and pulls him close. “I want to watch some random top pound away at you.” He nips at Mitaka’s throat with his teeth, making the young man squirm in his grasp. “I might not even jerk off. Perhaps I’d just lean against a wall and smoke while he takes what he wants from you.”

         “Fuck…”

         “Maybe you’d glance over at me every now and then so I could see the glassy look in your eyes while he slams into your pretty arse. I’ll listen to him grunt when he dumps his load inside you. And then, after he leaves…”

         “Yes? What then?”

         “I’ll fuck you senseless. You’ll be used, tired, and stretched out. Begging me to add my own release to your dripping, filthy hole.”

         “Oh, god,” Mitaka pants. “Please fuck me now. Please, sir.”

         Grinning wildly, Hux pulls Dopheld onto his lap and palms his ass. “Desperate for it, are you?”

         “Can’t you tell, sir?” This earns him a smack on his backside. “Yes, of course I am.”

         “Good.”

 

 

The next day, Hux is washing his hands in the men’s lavatory nearest his office when Dopheld steps up to the sink beside him.

         “Lieutenant,” the general says in greeting.

         “General.”

         He lets Mitaka finish his ablutions, during which time he confirms that no one else is present. When the man walks to the dryer, back toward him, Hux steps behind him and presses against his ass.

         Mitaka turns to stare up at him, pupils blown, lips parted. “Please,” he begs brokenly.

         Hux leans in to graze the lieutenant’s ear with his teeth. “Meet me in the server control room in—” Here he glances at his chrono. “Eight minutes. I’ll permit you to suck me off there.”

         “Yes, _sir,_ ” Mitaka breathes. “Thank you.”

“Take the besh lift. I’ll take aurek.”

 

He’d planned on starting by kissing Mitaka, resuming where they’d left off in the gents’, but by the time the door closes, the lieutenant is already sinking to his knees. It would be awkward to interrupt him at this point. Now Mitaka’s hands are on the buckle of his belt, clicking it open, placing it gently on the floor. His hands slide up the sides of Hux’s jodhpurs, under the hem of his tunic, feeling for the edge of his briefs.

         “How would you like this, sir?” he asks quietly.

         Hux blinks, unsure how to respond. He settles for placing the palm of one hand against Mitaka’s cheek. The lieutenant leans into the touch before easing Hux’s trousers down to his knees, then repeats the motion with his briefs. While the cool air plays around his newly exposed skin, Hux locates his voice and a touch of authority along with it. “Lick me first,” he orders, sounding hoarse.

         Mitaka nods, and then as always, he obeys. The low light glints in his eyes as he holds Hux’s gaze while he laves his tongue up the general’s hardening length.

         Hux leans back against the wall, bracing himself ever so slightly with the tips of his fingers. He’s intent on letting Mitaka take the lead, and he’s fairly sure that if he puts his hands in the lieutenant’s hair, he’ll end up fucking the young man’s face.

         “Is this good for you, sir?” Mitaka inquires.

         All Hux can say in response is, “Fuck” followed soon after by a breathy “Dopheld.”

         Smiling a bit smugly, the lieutenant inhales deeply and promptly swallows Hux down to the hilt. Gasping, the redhead stares down at him.

         “Holy. Fucking. Hell.” No one has ever done this unprompted for him. The few times he’s been truly deep-throated, it only followed an outright demand if not holding a man’s head down. “Keep that up and I’ll—”

         “Come?”

         “Yes, Dopheld.”

         “Where do you want to shoot?” Mitaka asks between gulps of Hux’s cock.

         “I was thinking—your mouth. Or throat, rather.”

         “You _could_ give me a facial.”

         Hux’s pulse stutters. The thought of Mitaka returning to work after… “Oh,” he stammers ineloquently.

         “Your choice, General.” Back down.

         “Your face,” Hux pants. “I want to come on your pretty face.”

         Dopheld closes his eyes just in time for Hux’s release. Beads stick to his dark lashes. He wipes his eyelids and sucks his fingers clean. Hux places a thumb on his bottom lip, silently bidding him to keep his mouth open, and presses the crown of his still-twitching dick just inside. “That’s it. Get it all.” Once the very last pulse of pleasure has eked out of him, he helps Mitaka to his feet and pulls him in for a kiss. “Tonight,” he whispers, “I’m going to see if I can make you come so hard you’ll scream.”

         “Oh, sir.” Beaming as he wipes his eyebrows, he adds, “I’ll be screaming your name.”

 

 

“My name,” he orders that night. “Say my name.”

         “Hux,” Mitaka gasps. “General Bloody Hux.”

         “My _full_ name, Dopheld. Surely you know it.”

         “Armitage Hux! Fuck! _Armitage!_ ” The last piece of his fantasy has merged with reality. More—he’d never spoken the general’s given name, not even alone, not even in his head. He’s coming, of course, but there’s something deeper than physical release. Distantly, he’s aware that Hux is climaxing as well, likely from the ecstatic shouting of his name. But Dopheld is still trembling.

         Hux withdraws and dips his head to inspect the streaks of come across Dopheld’s abdomen and chest. Then he’s slurping them up. As Mitaka looks down at him in surprise, the redhead’s eyes flicker to meet his. “You’re delicious,” he murmurs before planting a kiss on his lieutenant’s navel. He scoops a measure up with the tip of an index finger and presses it inside Dopheld’s arse. Mitaka whines. “A bit sore, are you?”

         “Yeah…”

         “I admit I’m intrigued by the thought of shoving even more come inside you.” He lights a cigarra and suddenly discloses, “I do regret that it took fourteen months to get to this point.”

         “I wanted you from the moment I first saw you.” Mitaka gestures for a cigarra of his own and after clamping the filter between his lips, Hux lights it for him.

         Smiling wryly, the redhead answers, “And you’re precisely my type of man. But I was attempting to remain professional, and you were doing such a good job of it.”

         “Hardly,” Mitaka snorts. “My first evening on board a major banged me against the wall of his sonic.”

         “What I meant is that you’ve been discreet.”

         Blinking, Dopheld explains, “You wouldn’t say that if you listened to gossip.” He shrugs. “I’m the ship’s speeder.”

         Hux raises an eyebrow in wordless inquiry.

         “Everybody gets a ride.”

 


End file.
